Wading Through Mud
by jbn42
Summary: He doesn't know how he'll move through it this time. At some point, all the loss becomes impossible to carry, but for the sake of the people who depend on him, he'll keep fighting his way forward.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I'm comfy with calling this a "T", but there is some strong language and mild sexual content, just as an FYI. **Set in the context of my other stories, moments before and after the eleventh pilgrimage, up to and including moments after my story _A Phoenix By Any Other Name_, all from Taylor's perspective. Not entirely sure where this came from, except that it was just a place my head took me.

There will be at least one more chapter, but it could take a while due to work deadlines this week and next. Either that, or I'll be unable to focus on work and I'll end up finishing it sooner!

**Disclaimer is as usual – no profit, not mine, just borrowing.**

_Grief can't be shared. Everyone carries it alone. His own burden in his own way._ -Anne Morrow Lindbergh

_Terra Nova, the night before the eleventh pilgrimage._

Nathaniel sighs as he leaves the command center alone. It's late and a quiet night, most people already home for the night. He's on his way to see Alicia, something he's been dreading. He approaches her house carefully, knowing how much he pissed her off earlier today when he told her she was staying behind for the eleventh.

He knows it's irrational, knows it's probably a bad idea, but just this one time he wants her safe inside the colony fences. He has a bad feeling about the coming pilgrimage, and he is giving in to to his near-constant desire to protect her. The scene in his office earlier, witnessed by both Guz and Shannon, wasn't pretty.

He'd laid out the plan for tomorrow, and he could see the moment when she realized that her only role in that plan was to see them off in the morning. She'd leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest, her entire demeanor going cold, making Guz and Shannon exchange a nervous glance.

He should have dismissed them then, but he'd been an idiot, defensive about his decision, and he'd just engaged her. "Something to say, Lieutenant?" At best, his tone might've been considered a little distracted. At worst, and he knew it was a more realistic interpretation, he'd sounded dismissive and condescending.

She'd bristled immediately at his use of her rank and tone, obviously knowing that he was using his role as her C.O. to make a military decision for decidedly non-military reasons and had no interest in discussing it. "Does it matter, _sir_?"

He'd barely managed to hide his wince at the way her voice twisted on the word "sir." Shannon and Guz were wholly unsuccessful, and they'd both scooted their chairs back. It'd also raised his hackles, and he'd foolishly pushed her. "Of course it does, Lieutenant. I always welcome input from my staff, you know that."

When he'd referred to her as "staff," Shannon shook his head and Guz actually expelled a shocked breath. Her eyes had narrowed dangerously, and she'd stood up, a light sheen of tears suddenly clouding those eyes, and said, "Fuck you, Nathaniel Taylor," with no small amount of venom. Before he'd been able to recover from his surprise at her reaction, not at all the reaction he'd been expecting, she'd stormed out of his office. He hasn't seen her since.

He runs a hand through his hair as he walks. She'd avoided him all day. He knew all her assigned tasks were complete, as she'd had Reynolds and Reilly both bring him reports. Both of the younger soldiers had barely disguised their own disdain, though he guessed that she'd not said anything about what happened. Alicia can be stoic when she wants to, but the mere fact that she was having others report to him on her behalf would have told them all they needed to know.

He sighs again. He'd expected her to be upset. What he hadn't expected was the hurt and the clearly pretty significant anger. Looking back on it, he can't imagine how he could've ever thought it would go any way other than how it did. He curses himself and his innate ability to delude himself into thinking that what he decides is the "Right Thing" will be accepted and go over fine simply because he thinks it's right.

Getting to her door, he sees that her house is mostly dark. He doesn't take that as a good sign. She couldn't have told him not to come over much more clearly without calling him to say it explicitly. He's stubborn though, and he won't let them go to bed like this, much less part tomorrow like this. He looks around to see if anyone is nearby, and after confirming that the coast is clear, he passes his hand over the door sensor and enters.

As he closes and locks the door behind him, his heart sinks a little when he hears her voice, low and dangerous. "Go home, Commander." Usually when they're alone and she uses his rank, it's teasing and playful. There is nothing of that in her voice tonight.

He turns and sees her sitting on her couch. The room is dark save a small light over the sink in the kitchen. He halfway expects to see a bottle of whiskey in front of her on the coffee table, but all he sees is a glass of water. He approaches the couch, and he sees that she's sitting back with her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around them, the position she takes when she's upset or feeling threatened. Her face is nearly unreadable.

"Alicia…" his voice has a conciliatory tone, and her reaction is immediate.

Every muscle in her body seems to go tense, and her face becomes the face of rage. She points one threatening finger at him. "Don't. Don't you dare. You don't get to dismiss me as 'staff' in front of Guz and Shannon and then come here to make nice. Get out, Nathaniel. I do not want you here right now."

He makes a conscious effort to keep his voice even. "I'm not leaving." He sits on the coffee table, facing her head on. "I owe you an apology. I know that. I was a bastard today, and I deserved your reaction. But I can't leave tomorrow with this sitting here festering between us."

She doesn't give him an inch. "You should have thought of that before, Nathaniel." She jumps up, startling him. She starts to pace. "You and I both know I should be out there. You and I _both know_ that the wise thing is for me to go and you to stay here, just as it always is. Regardless of your reasons for going against what is actually the best tactical position, though, your treatment of me today was unacceptable."

She stops pacing for a moment and looks at him dead on. "This is the first time in seven years that I have even come close to regretting us, Nathaniel. This is the first time that I truly don't like you."

He opens his mouth to protest, her words stinging deep, but she's not having it. "You treated me like an afterthought, and then you had the audacity to completely undermine me by calling me 'staff' in front of the people I have to work with and, in most cases, command on a daily basis, only to avoid having to admit that you are doing this for purely personal reasons. Not to mention the fact that while they're not aware that I'm your wife, they _are_ aware of our personal relationship – so you ended up with a two-for-one, because you also personally humiliated me."

He can't argue with her, and she obviously knows it. "So don't you dare come in here and try to make me forgive you by guilting me about the fact that you're leaving tomorrow. If that's your plan, your goal, then I'll say it again. Fuck you, Nathaniel Taylor."

She stalks away, heading to the kitchen. She opens a cabinet and pulls out a glass and the whiskey bottle he expected earlier, and she pours herself a generous amount. After putting the bottle down, she drains the glass in seconds. She then slams the glass down on the counter, spins around, and glares at him. "Now I've already said it, but you are obviously in idiot mode today, so I'll say it again. Get out."

He takes a deep breath and gets to his feet. He doesn't know how to fix this, but he's desperate to. After running a hand through his hair, he walks to the kitchen. Her eyes darken with more anger as he does. He holds up his hands, hoping to buy himself some time. "Alicia, please let me say this. When I'm done, I'll go if you still want me to."

After a few tense moments of an icy stare he's only ever seen her use with mortal enemies, she gives him a terse nod. He nods back and runs a hand through his hair again. "I don't know why I did that today. I don't…I didn't mean for it to happen the way it did. I can be a mean-spirited son of a bitch, and I don't know why I do it to you."

He pauses, looking down. "I didn't come here for forgiveness. I don't really deserve it. And while it's true that I want us to at least put this aside for tonight, I don't expect you to shrug off what I did today. You're also right that I was in idiot mode. I got defensive because I knew you saw what I was doing, that I was keeping you here because I'm afraid of something happening to you. So, instead of just admitting that, I tried to bulldoze you. I just wanted to stop the conversation, and I gave no thought to how it might sound."

He looks back up at her. Her eyes are still dark with anger, but he can see a hint of a thaw there. "I know you can handle yourself. I know you _can_ deal with whatever is coming at us, whatever it may be, but I, I…"

"You what, Nathaniel?" Her voice has lost a little of its edge, but he can hear the anger that remains.

He risks taking a small step closer to her. "I can't survive without you. If I lose you, I lose myself. You never let me protect you. You never let me take care of you the way you take care of me. I know something is coming. I _know_ it. And I'm pretty sure that if Lucas could have his way, I'd be brought to my knees. Even though I don't think he knows about us, he knows that you're all I have left. He'd kill you purely because it would harm me."

He grips the kitchen counter, and she remains silent, so he looks down at his hands. "I meant it when I said don't need you to forgive me tonight, Alicia, but I couldn't leave without apologizing, and I couldn't leave without explaining. I make no excuses for how I acted. All I can do is explain my motivation. When Ayani died…" he takes a deep, rattling breath, "It was because of me. Because I brought her and Lucas to a war zone, convinced myself they'd be safe."

He feels her move closer to him, but he doesn't look up. "I can barely breathe when you're OTG without me, but I know I can't keep you here. That's not fair to you, and it's not who we are. But I just have a bad feeling about all of this. I need you inside the gates this time. And I was so desperate to have that happen that I deluded myself into thinking that if I glossed over it, got past it quickly, I'd get my way, that you'd be annoyed with me but that we'd be fine. It was stupid and thoughtless, and I knew that the moment I saw your face."

Her hand closes over his. He still doesn't look up, but he notices that it's her left hand over his and that her ring is on. He turns his hand over under hers, brushing his thumb over her ring. "I'm sorry, Alicia."

She sighs, and he finally looks up at her. "You hurt me today, Nathaniel. You hurt me in front of other people. You haven't done that in a long time. Not since you did it in front of Guz back in 2141." She alludes to an incident they had back in the early planning stages of the expedition.

He nods. "I know. He ripped me a new one after Shannon left, and he reminded me of what happened back then. He told me I was wrong back then and that I'm wrong today. I honestly think he was about to hit me, but Reilly called needing to ask him something. He told her he was coming, and then he looked at me and said that he was with you. He also said 'fuck you' before he left."

"Good." She's not smiling, but at least she isn't glaring anymore. He thinks to himself that it's better than nothing.

"I can't take back what I said today, Alicia, and I know that what I'm about to say is going to most likely make you tell me to get out again, but…"

She cuts him off. "I know you're not going to change your mind, Nathaniel. Not when you invoke Ayani. I know you wouldn't do that lightly." She pulls her hand away. "I don't agree. You know that. It's the wrong thing to do. We both are fully aware that, in a military situation, the emotional decision is rarely the right decision."

She turns back towards the bottle of whiskey and pours another glass. This time, she holds it out to him. He shoots her a grateful look before tossing the amber liquid back. She takes the glass back and puts it in the sink before turning back to him. "It's a good thing you don't need me to forgive you tonight, because I don't. I don't like the way you made me feel today, and I don't like how easily you made me feel that way."

She clearly can see that he's about to apologize again, because she holds up her hand. "Don't. Don't say you're sorry anymore. I know you are. I know you didn't mean to hurt me. But the fact remains that you did."

She turns and heads for her bedroom. His eyes follow her, and he can't stop himself from calling her name. "Alicia, I…"

She stops walking, and he turns out the light over the sink before coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her from behind. She tenses at first, but then he lets out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding when she relaxes back into him. Her whispered words make him hate himself for his behavior that morning. "After my mom died, Nathaniel, I decided I'd never love anyone again. I decided I'd be on my own forever. I was OK with that."

She takes a deep breath before going on, "But I met you, and you dragged me out of that general med tent and into not just your unit, but your life. Then, my heart broke again over Ayani. But I still let you in. You are the only person I've ever truly given my heart to. I had friends and lovers in the past, but until you, no one really cleared the walls, not even Ayani, who I truly loved as a friend and sister."

She turns in his arms and looks up at him in the dim light of the moon through the windows. He can see the vulnerability and lingering hurt in her eyes, and the guilt knifes through him again. "Alicia, I swear on this colony that I'll be more careful with your feelings in the future. I know I'm going to mess up, but I swear I'll try to be better."

She keeps her eyes on his for a moment, and then she leans up and kisses him gently. "Come to bed, Nathaniel."

Her words flood him with relief. She takes his hand and guides him to her room, and he follows willingly. They both silently undress, her down to panties and one of his t-shirts, and him down to his boxers. He pulls his tags over his head and removes his ring from the chain. He puts on the ring and leaves his tags on the bedside table.

He slides under the covers, and she's on him almost instantly. It takes him very much by surprise, but he isn't going to fight it. In the middle of it, with him above her, buried deep inside her body, she stops moving and pulls him down to her in a fierce kiss. She pulls back and moves her mouth near his ear and nearly growls, "You come back to me in one piece, Nathaniel."

"Yes ma'am." He grits out the words as she begins to move against him again. They sleep tangled tight together, her draped across his chest and them clinging to each other.

The next morning, they part after sharing several long minutes of kissing just inside her front door. When they part publicly later, they revert to their usual slightly sarcastic banter. He sees Reynolds check on her before they leave, and he watches as she clearly tries to reassure her adopted little brother that she's fine, even though Nathaniel knows deep down that she isn't.

In his heart, he still feels the guilt simmering there, shame over his behavior yesterday and shame over placing his own needs above what might be best for the colony. Their eyes meet just before the convoy pulls out, and he mouths, "I love you," to her. She doesn't say anything, but she nods and puts her hand over her heart. He looks back at the colony for as long as he can see the top of the fence.

It feels like an eternity has passed since that moment at the gate, and he stares into the fire unable to form a single coherent thought. His mind just keeps playing her last moments over and over again, and all he can hear is Shannon's voice saying that it would be suicide.

All he knows is that he'd welcome death. Had Shannon's family not been there, had he been alone and witnessing her execution, he would have gone in guns blazing. Twice now, he has had to watch his wife die at the hands of the enemy. It's made worse this time by the fact that the enemy was his own son and by the fact that he knows she died believing that she let him down by surrendering the colony.

The youngest Shannon child's hug was well-intentioned and a brief distraction, but in the end, he knows he just pulled himself in tighter, his walls going up so high that they won't ever be breached again. Not only did she die because of his choice to force her to stay behind, but she probably died because of her loyalty to him.

He looks up to see Shannon picking his way through the trees. The man looks shaken, but Nathaniel guesses that they all are. The moment that Shannon says the words, "Cu Lao Cham," Nathaniel realizes that she may have just saved them all again. Now, he just has to wade through the emotional mud that has flooded his heart to find the strength to honor her by blowing those sons of bitches and Hope Plaza sky high.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Set in the context of my other stories, moments before and after the eleventh pilgrimage, up to and including moments after my story _A Phoenix By Any Other Name_, all from Taylor's perspective. This skips over much of the time covered by that story, because parts of it are already from Taylor's POV. Some of the later dialog, though, came from that, because it would be silly if the dialog changed now!

**Disclaimer is as usual – no profit, not mine, just borrowing.**

_No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear._ - C.S. Lewis

As their convoy rolls back into the colony through the battered gate, Nathaniel puts a hand to his side. Every bump has reminded him of his son's final betrayal and of the fact that he was foolish enough to fall for it, particularly after watching him kill Alicia.

He closes his eyes for a moment, dreading seeing her body, if they even left it behind. He gets out of his rover to cheers, and he schools his expression to one of relief and celebration. He accepts the hugs and well wishes, and he sees the hesitant faces of those who clearly want to express their sympathy over Alicia's death, thinking that he has lost a long-time friend, his loyal, capable second in command.

He forces himself to move along the crowd, hoping to escape to find solitude and possibly find her. As he makes it to the edge of the crowd, a voice stops him. "She's gone, Taylor."

He turns sharply, pain lancing through his side, and he sees a subdued-looking Boylan standing there. "What do you mean?"

"I looked for her body. I wanted to make sure they didn't defile…" Nathaniel winces visibly and looks down, and Boylan hesitates briefly before going on, "I wanted to make sure she was respected. She deserved that. But they must have taken her and left her somewhere outside the fence. I even tried to track her tags after I called you, but the signal came from the command center."

Nathaniel's head snaps up. "Her tags are at command?"

"I think so." The bar owner nods and turns to walk away.

"Tommy." Nathaniel's voice cracks a little, making the man turn back to face him. "I still don't like you or trust you," Boylan lifts an eyebrow, but Nathaniel adds, "But thank you. Shannon told me what you did for her, watering her drinks and everything else. Thank you for trying to help her then, and thank you for trying to protect her now."

Boylan's eyes soften. "I still think you're a rotten old bastard, but Wash? She was special, Taylor. Flawed like all of us, but somehow perfect in spite of it. I hope you know how lucky you were to have her."

Without giving Nathaniel time to reply, Boylan walks away, calling to Josh to come help him clean up the bar. Nathaniel sighs heavily and turns towards the command center. He doesn't get two steps before Elisabeth Shannon steps in front of him. "Doc, what do you need?" He wants to be patient, but he can't keep the pointed edge out of his voice.

"I need you under a scanner now." He thinks about arguing, but there's something in her eyes that warns him not to. He just nods and follows her to the infirmary.

Half an hour later, he has a new wound seal and has been injected with antibiotics and a pain meds, and he walks towards command with more painkillers in his pocket. As he walks, he has to nod and be friendly to the passing colonists and soldiers. When he gets there, he climbs the stairs as quickly as his battered body will allow, anxious for silence and solitude and anxious to find the one piece of her that's left.

When he gets to his office, he's surprised by how little of it is ruined. They must have used it for their own, the bastards. He doesn't focus on anything right away, heading straight for the attached bathroom to see if any of his clothes are still there. He's surprised to see that the clean fatigues and t-shirts he keeps here are all still folded neatly under the sink.

He strips down and rinses off in the small shower, and then he puts on clean clothes and a pair of his favorite fingerless gloves followed by his boots and knife. Once he's redressed, he runs a hand through his still-damp hair and looks at himself in the mirror. He guesses that he looks pretty normal, but to his own eyes, he sees the cracks in his façade. He sees the grief in his eyes, and the anger burns there too. He swallows hard, fighting back the despair.

He turns and heads out into his office. His eyes scan the room. When they land on his desk, he feels his stomach flip over. There are tags on his desk, presumably hers. He swallows hard again and he approaches the desk. It's clean save for the single set of tags in the middle of him, and he gets confirmation that they're definitely hers a moment later when he spots her platinum wedding band hooked to the chain along with her tags.

He picks them up carefully, reverently, closing his hand around them and holding them to his chest. He has to blink back the tears in his eyes, knowing that someone will likely come looking for him at any moment. He loops the chain around his hand a few times, unwilling to put them down, and he then pulls off his own tags.

From his chain, he removes his own wedding band. He puts his tags back over his head, and then he adds his ring to the chain with her ring and tags. He winds the chain around the tags and rings. He holds them in his hand, staring at them, and then he brings them to his lips, pressing a kiss to them and whispering, "I'm sorry," before slipping them into his pocket.

Feeling the grief pushing up again, he finds himself desperate for air. He goes out onto the balcony, leaning against the rail and watching the people below as they work to clean up the damage done to their home. He'd hoped that the fresh air would help, but he instead finds himself painfully aware that she's not there standing behind him. Her absence feels like a physical void.

He looks out and sees Shannon approaching, so he takes a deep breath, waves to him, and tries to adopt a relaxed demeanor, hoping that he succeeds. They exchange a few words before they're interrupted by Reynolds. They talk for a while about what the Phoenix soldiers might have found in the Badlands, and Reynolds goes off to get help finding the container Shannon mentioned.

After the container is found and opened that night, Nathaniel feels the fatigue deep in his bones. He turns to walk away, and he heads for Alicia's house. He knows he should go home, but he finds himself drawn to her place, unable to resist the pull even though he knows it might not be the best thing for him.

He needs to see it one more time, though, to spend one more night there. Guz came to him this afternoon with a report of families displaced by the siege, and it's clear that her house, undamaged, is needed for one of those families. He already talked to Reilly and Reynolds, and, avoiding their sympathetic eyes, he'd asked them to come help him pack up her personal things tomorrow.

When he gets to her house, he finds the door unlocked. He enters, making sure to lock the door behind him. The moment he steps inside, he's enveloped by what he recognizes as her scent. He wonders at the fact that he never really noticed before, but her house smells like her, an interesting mix of earthy undertones and a soft floral scent, something that would likely be incongruous when associated with her to anyone who didn't know her softer side.

Unconsciously, his hand goes to his pocket, instinctively wrapping around her tags and their wedding rings. In the safety of the solitude here, he unwinds the chain and slips it over his head, their tags and rings clinking together. He drops his jacket and boots by the door, and he pulls off his holster and gun, putting them on the coffee table.

He can feel the anger and sadness warring in his gut. He wants more than anything to let the anger win, because the sadness terrifies him. He fears that if he gives into it, he'll be crippled beyond action, and he knows that wouldn't sit well with her at all.

As his eyes sweep the room and land on her bookshelves, laden with books that were gifts mostly from Ayani, he can acknowledge that he's likely to lose the war against the grief. Sighing, he walks over to the books, running his fingertips over the old familiar titles. He's read pretty much everything here, usually borrowed from her.

His fingers stop for a moment when they get to a worn out copy of Jane Austen's _Sense and Sensibility_. The old book was his gift to her for a birthday long past, bought for him by Ayani and shipped to whatever hell they were fighting in at the time. Alicia gave him his own copy right before he came through the portal back in 2142, and that copy still rests on his nightstand, as it has for nearly seven years.

While the books make him even more melancholy, he finds himself doing well keeping it together. He continues from one shelf to the next, and he's brought up short. This shelf isn't books, it's photos. There is one of their unit in Somalia, but that's not the one that catches his eye.

He reaches out and picks up the framed picture, his hand shaking slightly. He goes to the couch, bringing the picture with him. Sitting down and closing his eyes, he takes a moment to try to compose himself. The shaking, however, doesn't subside – it just intensifies. He gives up and opens his eyes, staring at the picture.

It's from over ten years ago, the Christmas of 2137, the year before Ayani's death. In the picture, Ayani is in the kitchen of their old house, and Alicia is standing next to her, looking almost impossibly young. The two women are covered in flour, and they are both laughing, appearing far more relaxed and happy than anyone would expect of either of them.

He tightens his hands on the frame, but the shaking continues. After a moment, the first tear slips down his cheek, getting lost in his beard. It's followed by another, and it's not long before he puts the picture down and leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His shoulders heave in silent sobs as he once again has to let go of someone he would have gladly died for himself.

**WT**WT**WT**

Nathaniel rolls stiff shoulders as he sits up on his couch, groggy after another mostly sleepless night. They've been back close to a week, but he hasn't slept more than a couple of hours a night since their return. After breaking down in her house the first night, he'd slept a while, mostly owing to Elisabeth's pain killers for his side.

But he'd been awakened by nightmares, images of Lucas raising his gun to her head and firing over and over. Every night since, it's the same thing, increasingly graphic dreams of her dying in different ways, each more disturbing than the last. It's hard to even close his eyes, because when he does, he sees her face.

After getting in from a resupply run to a few of the southern outposts, he had dinner with the Shannons last night. He did his best to put up a solid front for them, but when she walked him out, Elisabeth told him she has prescription sleep aids she can give him. He politely declined, but he knows she's going to be persistent.

At least the other Shannons were focused on other things. Nathaniel has to smile briefly at the memory of the expression on Jim's face when Maddy asked how many more supply runs Reynolds, currently at the northernmost outpost with Reilly to meet up with the Badlands recon team, would have to go on.

His smile fades as his mind goes to the Badlands and his son. He makes himself some coffee while he wonders again what the hell they're doing out there. Shaking his head, he dismisses the thoughts, knowing that it's going to be a while before they sort it out. He pours himself a cup of coffee and heads to his room to get dressed to go OTG with Dunham again, resupplying more of the southern outposts.

Hours later, he and Dunham are in a loaded rover, heading south. His comm goes off, signaling a radio call from Terra Nova. He hears Shannon's voice in his ear. "Shannon to Taylor, come in. Shannon to Taylor, come in."

Lifting an eyebrow, Nathaniel hits his comm. "Shannon, this is Taylor, go ahead."

There is a moment of silence, and then Jim's voice comes again, the channel open so Dunham can also hear. "Taylor, we need you back here. Reynolds just got in, and they have something important you need to see."

"Shannon, either tell me about it over the comm or it needs to wait. We'll be back by noon tomorrow."

He hears Shannon clear his throat, and more insistently, he says, "Negative, Taylor. It's very important, but it's something you have to see. We need you back now."

It's already closing in on late-afternoon, as it took them a while to get loaded up and on the way today. Going back now means that they'll have to start over tomorrow. They aren't on a particularly tight schedule for the resupply runs, but it still annoys him. Nathaniel swears under his breath, but he nods at Dunham, who slowly turns the rover around, heading back to Terra Nova. "Fine, Shannon, we'll be back in an hour or so. This better be good."

Nathaniel would swear that he heard Shannon mutter that it damn well was, but the signal drops before Nathaniel can say anything. As promised, they pass back under the gate just over an hour later. He gets out, leaving his armor and pack with Dunham, who offered to take them back to his house.

Reynolds is there waiting for him, so he goes over to the young soldier. "Reynolds, what the hell is going on?"

Reynolds comes to attention, looking nervous but also oddly excited. "Commander, Mr. Shannon and Dr. Shannon are waiting for you in Dr. Shannon's office in the infirmary. They asked that I send you to them."

"Fine." He turns and heads for the infirmary. Minutes later, he enters Elisabeth's office. "What is so important that I needed to come back in, you two? This will set me back a day."

Shannon mutters, "It'll set you back more than one," and Elisabeth actually kicks him.

She gives Nathaniel a weak smile and then takes his arm, leading him to the back of the building. They stop at the door to one of the private rooms. "Before we go in here," she motions to the door of the exam room with her head, "I want to make two things clear: one, other than a new gash from a slasher and a pretty serious case of exhaustion, she's completely fine; and two, she should stay here tonight, but if you two insist on leaving, I'll require a guarantee from you both that she will take it easy."

His confusion grows with every word, but he nods. "OK, Doc, but what the hell is going on?"

"Just go in there, Taylor. You'll understand." Elisabeth's reply is cryptic at best, but she turns and heads back to her office, pushing Jim in front of her, before he can ask her to explain.

He sighs and shakes his head before turning back to the closed door and knocking lightly. There isn't any reply, so he pushes the door open and enters the small room, closing the door behind him. He can see that there is a person on the bed, a woman. She has her back to him, and the way she is positioned in the bed hides most of her from him, but he can see that one leg is injured and propped up on a pillow.

As he nears the bed, she shifts in her sleep and long black hair fans out on the pillow, making him freeze where he stands. He swallows hard, taking a deep breath. He knows it can't be her, knows that his mind is just messing with him. For a moment, he actually wonders if he's asleep and this is just another bad dream.

Even if it is, he figures that he has to roll with it. He steps around the edge of the bed so that he can see the woman's face, and even though he was expecting it in a way, he's still shocked by the fact that it's her. She has a fading black eye and her lip is split, but it's her. Wordlessly, he sinks down onto the stool next to the bed. He's confused, because all of his dreams of her would have turned bad by now, and a dream is the only reasonable explanation for this. Anything else isn't possible.

A lock of hair rests over her face, and without thinking he reaches out and brushes it back from her eyes. As he does, his fingertips brush her forehead. The contact wakes her, making her jump a little in surprise. Her eyes blink open, and he starts to pull his hand back, staring into the whiskey-colored eyes he had believed he'd never see again.

Before he can pull his hand away completely, her own hand shoots out and catches it, and she breathes out, "Nathaniel."

Her hand feels warm and alive in his, and he sees her eyes fill with tears. His brain tells him that this isn't a dream, that she really is here. In his dreams, her face is never soft and tearful as it is now, and her hands are always icy cold. He reaches forward with his free hand burying it in her hair. "Alicia?" He keeps his voice soft, almost as if he's afraid she'll disappear if anyone hears.

A few tears spill over as she cups his cheek with her free hand and nods without saying a word. He doesn't care if this is a dream. He surges forward, sitting on the edge of the bed and dragging her to him in a tight hug. As the warmth of her body next to his seeps into him, he actually starts to shake, and she wraps her arms around him, clinging to him.

"Nathaniel, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't contact you, sorry to put you through this. I've been going crazy wanting to get back here, and I would've been here sooner if I could have…"

For some reason, her words, her voice, finally convince him that this is real, that it isn't a dream. He pulls back just enough to lean down and crush his lips to hers, kissing her as if he'll never get to kiss her again, because now he knows what that feels like.

Over a minute later, he knows they both need to breathe, so he pulls back and presses his forehead to hers, eyes closed. Keeping one arm around her, he uses the other to reach into his pocket. A moment later, he finds her tags in his pocket, and he pulls them out. His movements make her open her eyes, and when she spots the tags and their rings in his hand, she tears up again.

He removes the rings from her tags, and he slips the tags over her head. Then he slides her ring onto her finger and she puts his on him. As she does, the thought occurs to him that he refuses to ever wear his ring on his tags again, and he'll tell her the same. They won't hide again, not ever.

Mindful of her injured leg, he moves further up onto the bed to lean back against the headboard. He then lifts her, settling her in his lap. He kisses her again before pulling away and pressing his face into her neck. He feels her hand come up to comb through his hair, and he relaxes even more, holding her to him. He murmurs, almost growling, "You know I may never let you out of my sight again, right?"

Her hand tightens in his hair. "No arguments from me, Nathaniel," she pauses, "Don't you want to know what happened?"

He does. He needs to know. But right now, what he needs more is sleep and her. They both need rest after finally finding their way home, back to each other. "Yes, but it can wait." He feels her nod and snuggle closer to him, her head dropping to his shoulder. In moments, they both relax into the first peaceful sleep either of them has had in over a week.

**WT**WT**WT**

It's been a week since she returned to him, and today is the first day he actually allowed them to be separated for more than a quick trip to the market and back. Elisabeth had decreed no work for either of them for a few days, citing exhaustion for both of them. He thinks it was just a ploy on the part of the good doctor to give them some time alone together.

The first night at home, they unpacked all the boxes of her things, moved to his house some time ago by Reynolds and Reilly, except for her books. He didn't have built-in shelves like she did, so the next morning, they went to a woodworker in the market. He'd been happy to sell them the two shelves that now sit in the living room, and her books and pictures once again have a home.

After a few days, as much as they were enjoying their downtime and their time with each other, he and Alicia were both bristling to get back to work. He can tell when they walk through the market that she's still slightly uncomfortable with the joyful reception she gets, and he can also see that something is eating at her. He wants to push her on it, but he knows her well enough that she'll talk to him about it when she's ready.

Their first few days back at command were filled with requests and planning issues, especially issues of supplies now that they're cut off from the future. They're currently prioritizing three things above everything else – food, medicine and defense. They think they have food covered. Their agriculture is efficient and prolific, and they have faith in their ability to hunt the herbivores that are an excellent meat supply.

Medical is more complicated, and Alicia has been coordinating that with Malcolm and Elisabeth. They immediately need to start working on replicating medications that they used to get from the future, and they also have already begun implementing some medical protocols from plants found here.

He's spearheading the strengthening of their defenses. They won't be caught resting on their laurels again, not until the Phoenix Group is no longer a threat. He's also intrigued by the intel they're already getting from Mira and Carter at the Badlands camp. In the back of his mind, he wonders about the artifact the Phoenix Group found out in the Badlands, but for now, it's not a priority to them – it honestly may never be.

Guz is also working with them on the repair and construction projects to remedy the damage to homes and other structures during the attack on the colony and subsequent occupation by the Phoenix Group. It's that work that finally made them part company today. Until now, they've been able to work on their respective projects from his office in the command center.

Today, though, Guz wanted him out at the far end of the colony to go through some of the agricultural buildings, and her presence had been requested at an all-day meeting with Elisabeth, Malcolm, and the science and medical teams. She, surprising him, was just as reluctant to be apart as he was, but they'd talked about it the night before, and they both admitted that they need to start getting back to normal.

They'd walked the perimeter in the morning, but he hasn't seen her since. It's nearing sundown, and he is almost aching to see her again. When they're together he can't stop touching her, lightly brushing her arm or hand whenever he's close enough. Not touching her all day has left him anxious, feeling like she'll disappear at any moment.

He's making his way towards command when he runs into Elisabeth. He gives her a smile and a nod. "Doc."

She returns the smile and stops him with a hand on his arm. "Commander, she's not at the command center."

He feels panic well up inside of him, but he pushes it down, guessing that it's something wholly innocent. "Where is she?" He tries to keep his voice normal, but he can tell from Elisabeth's sympathetic face that he fails.

"She said something about watching the sunset. I think she went to one of the western guard towers." She squeezes his arm.

He relaxes slightly. He knows which tower Alicia favors for that, having been there with her before. "Thanks Doc."

"Anytime, Commander. Have a good evening." She nods and heads off towards home.

As he walks towards the west fence, he takes a deep breath and shakes his head, knowing that he needs to stop imagining the worst. He's making himself a little crazy, but he can't seem to get past it. The day, while productive, was somewhat miserable for him. He had to resist the urge to radio her several times, and it was agonizing.

He nods to the people he passes until he's clear of the populated areas. It's almost sunset, and he thinks to himself that at least he'll get to watch the sun go down with her. It's quiet when he gets to the guard tower, one he knows is unmanned today, so he's sure it's the one she chose. He climbs the stairs into it, and he freezes at the top when he spots her.

She hasn't even looked his way, so he knows she's distracted. She's perched on the wide railing, sitting sideways with her back against a post. It's a warm night, so her jacket is discarded on the floor of the tower. It's a lightweight black standard-issue jacket, not her beloved old black leather. That one must have been stolen by a Phoenix soldier before they left. He makes a mental note that he should replace it for her, maybe for Valentine's Day, which is next month.

He watches her, and he hopes he can get her to talk to him about what's bothering her, because it's clear that something is. Not wanting to startle her, he clears his throat a little. She jumps slightly before looking over at him, a sheepish smile on her face. "Hi."

He crosses the tower, getting to her and pressing a kiss to her temple. "Hi." He stands right next to her, close enough for her to relax into him and still keep her balance on the railing.

She leans into his upper body, and he slings one arm around her. She turns her head and nuzzles her face into his chest for a moment before turning her face towards the setting sun again. "I missed you today."

He gets even closer to her. "I thought I was going to go nuts. I had to stop myself from calling you at least five times. Probably more like ten."

She chuckles softly. "You could have called. I kept wanting to call you too."

He smiles and remains quiet as they watch the sun slipping below the horizon. When the light is nearly gone, he makes himself ask, "Are you all right, Alicia? You see to have something on your mind."

"Why do you still trust me?"

"What?" He's truly perplexed by that question. "What the hell could you have done to violate my trust in you? I can't think of a thing."

She sighs and tries to pull away a little, but he won't let her. When she replies, her voice is weak, not at all like her. "I surrendered. I let twenty-six people die, and then I surrendered. You left me here to be safe and keep everyone else, the colonists, innocents, safe, and I failed. I know you trust me as a woman, but why do you trust me as a soldier?"

He's stunned that she really does blame herself. He didn't really believe Shannon when he said she was beating herself up over it. He releases her slightly, forcibly turning her to face him. She looks down, so he uses his fingertips to tilt her face up to his. "I trust you as a soldier _because_ you surrendered, Alicia. You assessed the situation, knew the civilian casualties would be significant, and you did the only thing you could to try to protect them. You and I both know that sometimes all you can do is retreat."

He leans down and presses a kiss to her lips. When he pulls away, he waits for her to open her eyes again before saying, "You did the right thing. And I'll never not trust you. You are the only person I trust completely and without hesitation. You have been for nearly twenty years."

She blinks a little, and then she jumps down from the rail. She fits herself to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling her face into his neck. "Thank you."

"No thanks necessary, my Alicia. Never doubt that."

She nods against him, and they stand there like that for a while. After several minutes, she breaks the silence. "Can we not be apart all day tomorrow? I didn't like this today. It was too much too soon."

He squeezes her to him, oddly relieved to know that she was as uncomfortable with the separation as he was. "Yes. I was pretty miserable. We at least have to have lunch together."

As if on cue, her stomach growls. They both laugh, stepping away from each other. He looks down at her. "Mrs. Taylor, may I buy you some dinner in the market?"

She smiles, offering him her hand. "I'd like that, Commander."

He takes it, entwining their fingers, and they head down the steps and back towards the main part of the colony. As they walk, he says, "You know, I've been thinking about it. When things settle down, maybe in a week or so, we could slip away for a night. Maybe camping in a non-predator area?"

"Just you and me, no interruptions from colonists or military?"

"Yep."

"Sounds interesting. Nice and quiet. Just tell me when, Commander."

He grins and squeezes her hand. "I'll do that, Mrs. Taylor. I'll do that."


End file.
